


Obvious

by soonkyuu



Series: Red / Blue [2]
Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Cheating, M/M, Not Beta Read, Vernon gets cucked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27278695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soonkyuu/pseuds/soonkyuu
Summary: They slot together so well, like some unfortunate prophecy come true.--Written as a companion piece to Greedy and takes place sequentially after it, but can be read standalone.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Boo Seungkwan/Lee Seokmin | DK
Series: Red / Blue [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991728
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Obvious

**Author's Note:**

> Now Playing: Eyedi - Caffeine

Seungkwan knocks on the door as lightly as he can muster. The condensation on the plastic cup in his hand is starting to make his palms slippery. In truth he has no idea exactly what sugary concoction is in his hands, he simply ordered the cafe’s special of the day that hung above the cashier. Some sweet latte stuffed with buzzwords written in blocky blue chalk letters. Seokmin had left him on read when he asked what he wanted so Seungkwan was forced to make the decision himself. He’s not one for sugary coffee drinks but Seokmin is, and he figures the premium on this drink is likely indicative of its taste profile.

“Hyung, don’t you have rehearsal soon? You’ll have to come out eventually.” Seungkwan calls out from his place in front of Seokmin’s bedroom door. The sun has come and passed and Seungkwan has come and gone from his classes, yet Seokmin’s still locked away. He’s missed his classes today, that much is certain, but if he misses rehearsal he’ll be beating himself up about it for who knows how many weeks to come. Seungkwan is a good friend, and he doesn’t want that to happen for both Seokmin’s sake and his own. Outside the window the sky has faded from a pale blue to a dull white.

“I’m going to open the door, okay?” Seungkwan finally decides. He can hear the faintest groan and a shifting from behind the door in what Seungkwan knows is the general direction of Seokmin’s bed. Seungkwan gives him a solid thirty seconds to take the initiative himself before he reaches for the door handle.

It’s unlocked, of course.

Seokmin never locks his door. Seokmin is face down on his pillows. His blanket has been haphazardly kicked to the side of the mattress. He’s laying so still Seungkwan could almost believe he was dead if he hadn’t heard him move moments ago. The lights are off but the half drawn curtains in his windows leave a pale streak across Seokmin’s back. The whole scene looks like it’s practically black and white, save for the blinking red numbers on Seokmin’s rejected alarm clock. Seungkwan inhales and fixes himself with his best comforting smile.

“If you’re hungover, I brought caffeine,” The mattress springs protest quietly as they dip under Seungkwan’s added weight. His own iced drink in his other hand is already half dranken in his impatience. Seokmin continues his impression of a corpse.

Seungkwan puts a hand on Seokmin’s shoulder with the intent of giving him a small jostle, but Seokmin jerks away like Seungkwan’s touch was acid. He sits upright and practically presses himself into the corner where the bed meets the wall. He’s looking anywhere but Seungkwan, a carefully placed facade of calm on his face despite the bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. Seungkwan is frozen in place, the ice in his americano jostling lightly against it’s plastic confines. A heavy silence falls between them.

“You okay?” Seungkwan cautions. It feels as if he’s broken something precious by cutting the silence. He tips the sugary iced latte at Seokmin ever so slightly in a bid to get him to take it. Seokmin’s eyes fix on the liquid and he stares at it for a long time. For Seokmin to be so silent and serious for so long is deeply concerning. Since they’d met as first years in that intro to acting class, Seungkwan isn’t certain he’s ever been in the same space as Seokmin so long without him saying a word.

Finally Seokmin reaches out his hand and takes the cup from Seungkwan’s hands. Seokmin’s pointer finger brushes against Seungkwan’s thumb in the exchange and he swears he sees Seokmin barely fight down a flinch. Seokmin stares down at the drink in his palm. There’s a heavy layer of whipped cream atop the beverage, with a drizzle of something dark, likely chocolate.

“Thanks,” Seokmin says, his voice coming out low and gravelly. His eyes soften ever so slightly as the beverage finally meets his lips. Seungkwan can feel the tension begin to melt ever so slowly.

“Want me to turn on the lights?” Seungkwan asks, hoping he won’t scare Seokmin back into his quiet shell. Seokmin doesn’t hesitate long before telling him ‘no’ which isn’t the response Seungkwan was hoping for. He’s not going to push it, though, not when he’s finally made a little bit of headway. If Seokmin is going to act like a scared stray kitten, Seungkwan will play along.

Seokmin gets up stiffly and reaches for his closet, retrieving an old baby blue sweatshirt he used to wear a lot but has since mostly fallen out of favor. He pulls it over his head and it musses his hair up in all the right ways. Seungkwan sips a bit more of his drink through the paper straw. The unflavored coffee has become somewhat diluted by the ice that’s melted. It tastes cold but burnt, dirty. His throat catches just a bit as he swallows. He holds down the cough but the corner of his eyes waters.

Seokmin turns to face him and watches Seungkwan carefully. Seokmin’s expression is unreadable in ways that are deeply unsettling. Seokmin is largely a very obvious person. He wears his emotions easily and clearly, it’s one of his natural talents that lend well to his acting. Interpersonally the results are mixed.

“Is there something you need to ask me?” Seokmin blurts out finally. It’s cold and curt, the emotions carefully measured out in teaspoons. He’s right to question him: Seungkwan already accomplished everything he set out to do. Seokmin is awake and caffeinated, Seungkwan’s job is finished.

He lets the question sit as he considers his phrasing. He holds the words in his mouth. They sit on his tongue. They taste burnt, dirty.

“Do you still think I’m cute?”

Seokmin takes a big gulp of his drink before setting it down on his bedside table. He nods, shifting his eyes away from Seungkwan’s own.

“Sorry,” Seokmin mumbles, sitting down on the edge of his bed. There’s a deliberate space between them. The gap is painful. Seungkwan pops the plastic lid off his drink and downs the last third of it like a shot. Seungkwan’s thighs frame Seokmin’s own as he settles himself into his lap. They slot together so well, like some unfortunate prophecy come true.

Seokmin’s hands find Seungkwan’s waist and he feels his whole body buzzing. The way Seokmin affects Seungkwan’s body is stronger than any caffeine high. The first syllable of an unwanted word falls from Seokmin’s mouth and Seungkwan covers it up with his own before Seokmin can utter the name at the back of both their minds.

This time it’s electric. The first time they’d kissed was sloppy, lazy, even affectionate. This is desperate. Seokmin’s lips are cold and Seungkwan wants to get in his space as much as possible. He needs the body heat before his own creeping dread chills him. He does his best to not think about how he set his phone to silent before coming in here. It hurts less to pretend that Seungkwan didn’t expect this from the start.

Seokmin is so painfully obvious. He can’t keep secrets well so he generally doesn’t. Seungkwan would be lying if he said he didn’t have any idea of Seokmin’s crush on him. It’s been present nearly as long as he’s known him. They’d had moments before Vernon entered the picture where Seungkwan thought a confession was approaching, yet it never came. Seokmin was a coward at heart, always backing away before he could let his guard down too much. Seungkwan cherishes the confession he’s received today, however small it may be. The increasing distance between them in all things is a gap Seungkwan realizes that only he will ever have the courage to close, and so close it he will.

Seungkwan’s nose meets the soft fabric of that baby blue hoodie he’s missed for so long and he swallows carefully. Seokmin’s hand lands lightly on his head. His fingers tangle through his hair as Seungkwan pulls back delicately. Seokmin groans above him and a satisfaction tingles through his whole body, more sweet than whatever blood pressure riser Seungkwan had bought him earlier. Unlike Vernon, Seokmin verbalizes his satisfaction in ways Seungkwan relishes in. The praise that tumbles from his lips are a chain of microdoses.

When Seungkwan pulls away he finds the coffee taste has seemingly stained his lips. They taste burnt and so powerfully, sinfully, all encompassingly dirty.

Unlike Vernon, Seokmin is obvious. The gap between the two of them is a surmountable obstacle nowhere near the size of the pacific ocean. Normally, Vernon and him would video call each other soon. Seokmin would be at rehearsal and Seungkwan could avoid the guilt that weighs down his words when he knows Seokmin can hear them. It’s not as if he had been deceitful with Vernon from the start. He’d fought the best he could to convince him to not take a year of school abroad but Vernon had been unconvinced. Seungkwan can just barely see his reflection on the front of Seokmin’s alarm clock, the time slowly ticking down. When the final two letters turn into zeros, Vernon is going to be calling, but this time Seungkwan’s not sure he can answer.

“Please, please don’t cry,” Seokmin mumbles to him, body frozen in place, his eyes wide like a scared child. Seungkwan’s fingers find the liquid on his cheeks and he curses his own weakness. As much as Seokmin is obvious, so is Seungkwan. The difference between them is that Seungkwan tries to hide it.

“I’m fine,” Seungkwan tells him hastily. He brushes the tears away and does his best to blink away any lingering presence. Suddenly he’s feeling terribly vulnerable in all the wrong ways. The cold tears don’t stop their assault on his self esteem. He’d duck his head down and hide but the damage has already been done. There’s nothing more to lose.

“Do you still think I’m cute?” Seungkwan finds himself echoing. This time the desperation is laid out bare for Seokmin to pick out and analyze just as he does when he acts. Sometimes he’ll read out his lines to Seungkwan in the late hours of the night. He’s always so eager to hear Seungkwan’s take on character motivations. Seungkwan’s not even sure he understands his own motivations, much less Hamlet’s.

“Of course I do,” Seokmin says gently, “you know that already though, don’t you?” His hands cup Seungkwan’s face and the tears bleed between his fingers.

Of course Seungkwan knows, because Seokmin is obvious. When the numbers on the clock shine a zero and a one, Seungkwan closes his eyes tight. He kisses Seokmin again and the buzz of it tingles through every single one of his veins.

Seokmin is obvious, but Seungkwan is too.


End file.
